


Toybox

by blythechild



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Aftermath of a Case, Comfort Sex, Dare, Developing Relationship, Drinking Games, Drunken Kissing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Male-Female Friendship, Morning After, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-12
Updated: 2012-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-31 01:29:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/338397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blythechild/pseuds/blythechild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drunken dare in Vegas leads Reid towards an encounter with Prentiss that he's always hoped for, but sometimes getting what you wish just creates more complications.</p><p>This is a work of fanfiction and as such I do not claim ownership or rights to any of the characters herein. This story is purely for personal entertainment. It also contains mature themes and graphic sexual content and should not be viewed by minors, whatever that age may be in whatever jurisdiction you may reside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Toybox

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in response to an open-fandom porn battle on Livejournal, hence the shoddy attempt at plot. It's been a while since I've smutted, so please be gentle with me.

If he thought about it reductively, the whole situation resulted from austerity measures and Las Vegas. Damn Vegas…

*****

“Why should I be compelled to participate in this?” He was drunk but not _that_ drunk.

“C’mon Spence! What happens in Vegas, sta-”

He cut J.J. off before she finished. “As far as I know this town doesn’t offer a free pass to stupid ideas at the city limits. If it did, my childhood would’ve been much different. Maybe I should leave you ladies to your ‘girls night’ and I’ll meet you at the airport tomorrow…”

“Listen Sexy Genius, it’s just a dare. You can welch on it if you want…” Garcia was using her most transparent psychology on him.

“That’s so not fair.”

“C’mon Reid – one kiss and your daredevil status remains pristine.” Prentiss walked up until she was right in front of him, grinning. Since she was the only unattached woman present, she had been volunteered for the dare as well.

“Why do I go out with you people?” he grumbled, “All I get is hung over and a bunch of questionable experiences…”

Prentiss made a face. 

“Not that kissing you would be regrettable, Emily” he backtracked quickly, “I _have_ kissed before – I’ve even dated! – why do I have to prove it?”

“Quit stalling. Pucker up, Romeo.” J.J. and Garcia crossed their arms in unison.

“Fine.” He squared his shoulders and faced Prentiss. “What are the parameters again?”

“No less than 5 seconds, open-mouthed but no tongue, and you have to make us _believe_ it.” Garcia purred.

He had learned that first kisses were tricky. It was an invitation; it should entice without suggesting that anything else would follow it. This one would be trickier because it was meant as an entertainment but a part of him was leaping out of his skin to do it.

He stepped into Prentiss, one hand cupping the back of her neck as he guided her lips to his. She tasted of the cosmopolitans that she had been drinking all night. He savored the sweetness as he drew her lower lip into his mouth. With his other hand on her waist he turned her slightly to curve her spine and force her into him a little more: complimentary angles were more aesthetically pleasing and encouraged muscle relaxation. Prentiss matched his moves perfectly – not over anticipating him or being inflexible. He felt her hands land lightly on his shoulder and his lower back as they moved. At exactly 8 seconds he gently broke their connection and took a respectful step backwards.

Garcia stood agape. J.J. spoke up, “Emily? So?”

Prentiss’s lips pressed together and her eyebrows rose the way they did when she was pleasantly surprised by something. “Yep, that was pretty good.”

“All right, Reid – sorry that we doubted you. That looked pretty convincing.” J.J. grinned.

“Oh good,” his sarcasm masking his pleasure “Can we go get something to eat now? Preferably something starchy to soak up all of the alcohol in my system…”

“Ooohhh, gyros!” Garcia declared and led them out of the casino lobby, her attention fully committed to a new challenge. 

 

*****

Eight weeks passed. Vegas stories were passed around – including the kiss dare – friendly ribbing ensued, and then subsided. Cases eclipsed other concerns. Prentiss’s behaviour remained consistent, which was both a relief and disappointment to Reid. The part of him who had been so eager for the opportunity to kiss Emily spent most of his time being increasingly sullen. As much as he was able, Reid put the whole situation out of his mind and focused on work.

Then they went to Seattle for the Toybox case…

The Unit’s budget, which was under constant review by the bean counters in Oversight, had been slashed again forcing agents to share hotel rooms when traveling. Reid usually roomed with Morgan, but Morgan had to stay in D.C. to prepare for an upcoming trial, and Hotch had determined that Garcia was needed in the field for the case. Garcia bunked down with J.J., leaving Prentiss the odd woman out. Hotch asked them if they had any issues with sharing a room, and when neither of them spoke up, the matter was settled.

The Toybox case dragged on; it took them 5 days to create a solid profile, and nearly 12 more days to catch the UNSUB. Everyone had taken the outcome hard: 13 child victims - kidnapped, tortured, murdered and then staged as toys in a giant playroom – 4 of whom had disappeared during the 17 day FBI investigation. By the last day, the team was exhausted and snappish with one another. Hotch decided to allow the team the night off instead of immediately flying home. 

Reid had taken a long walk in the perma-drizzle that blanketed the city. He had lost himself in an antiquarian bookstore for an hour and then headed back to the hotel with a rare edition tucked under his arm. Crossing the lobby to the elevators, he saw Prentiss in the hotel bar. It was half empty, dim, and quiet – he understood how it had drawn her in. He weighed leaving her to her thoughts and scotch, and then found himself walking toward her across the hushed room.

“Hey.”

She looked up and took a moment to smile. She had obviously been there a while. “Hi.”

“May I join you?”

“Sure.” She worked hard to focus on him. “What d’ya get?”

He patted the wrapped book on the bartop. “Illustrated second edition of _Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland_. It’s got great coloured plates – almost no fading.”

“Huh. How fitting.”

“You mean because of the case?”

“Yeah, I guess.” She waved the topic away and sipped her drink.

The bartender appeared out of thin air with a scotch bottle in hand. “Another?”

“Why not.” Emily smiled without mirth.

He turned to Reid, “Can I get you something?”

“Sure. Give me one of what she’s marinating in.”

Prentiss laughed and raised her glass to him.

“Emily, are you okay?” he asked after the bartender had disappeared again.

“You know, Alice In Wonderland is one of my favorite stories.” She ignored his question. “It’s a pretty scary book for kids though. I dunno why we tell our children these awful stories.”

“It’s no worse than the original versions of Grimm’s Fairytales, for example. They were full of rape, kidnapping, murder, cannibalism, bestiality… they were sanitized in the 1800s at the behest of Christian groups who were concerned about the affect the stories would have on children. But for generations, children heard and retold the horrible versions – kids have very resilient minds, and a story isn’t that good unless there’s an unimaginable evil to overcome in it.”

“At least in the stories you’re guaranteed to defeat evil…”

“We got him, Emily.” He said quietly.

“I know.” She laid a hand across his on the book.

“We’ve had tough cases before…”

She looked at him through the haze of scotch with such undisguised loneliness that he didn’t know how to react. Then, she threw on a sweet smile as if she had successfully hidden her despair from him. His heart stuttered out a few painful beats. “What’s your favorite part?”

“Uh…well… the Queen of Hearts’ live croquet game, I guess. I wondered what it would be like if she was playing chess instead – with live pieces.”

“Ha! I should’ve guessed that.” She chuckled.

“Emily, why don’t you call it a night…”

“It’s early.” She slurred.

“Yeah, but I’m betting that you got an early start here. C’mon, I don’t want to leave you here drinking alone.”

“I’m an armed FBI agent, Dr. Reid. Don’t you think that I can handle myself?”

“It’s not you that I’m worried about – it’s everyone else. Please, Emily – there’s a bar in the room anyway…” He held out his hand to her.

She stared at him and then shrugged. “Okay.”

She slid off the barstool and he made sure that he was there to catch her. To her credit, she didn’t need his help and managed to project an air of sober confidence until they got to the room. She fumbled with the key card.

“I miss keys.” She said.

“Me too.” He took the card from her hand and opened the door.

She sank into a deep chair next to the mini bar and immediately started rooting through it. He sighed, dropped the book on top of his already packed go bag, and collapsed onto his bed. At least he had got her safely back to the room.

“You want a drink?”

“No thanks, I’m exhausted. And wet. I got soaked out there.”

He sat up, retrieved his sleepwear, and went to the bathroom to change. When he returned to the room in his Cal Tech t-shirt and cotton pants, he found her staring into the darkness between the two beds. He placed himself in her line of vision and sat on the edge of one of them.

She focused on him with the haunted look that he had seen in the bar. This time she didn’t try to disguise it.

“Emily, talk to me.”

She just shook her head, no. The sullen part of him suddenly flared with anger. Weren’t they friends? Hadn’t he opened up to her more times than he could count? Why didn’t she trust him? He turned away and fiddled with his alarm.

“You know, some day I hope that you feel you can tell me what that look on your face is all about. I bet that it’s a real story.”

She stared at him silently. Her expression had changed from haunted to shock. His first impulse was to apologize but his sullen ego wouldn’t allow it.

“I-I guess… I guess that I wished you could let me in a little.” He was looking at his feet. “We’re friends, Em, and we went through this together. The whole team is having a hard time with this one.”

He couldn’t make himself look at her. He was afraid of what she might read there. Then his mind started calculating the odds of Emily having perfect recall of this evening given her level of intoxication. He decided that it still wasn’t worth the risk. 

“You know what I think about all the time?” She waited and then answered when he didn’t. “That kiss in Vegas.”

 _That_ made him look up. The room was dimly lit but he could see her face clearly. The scotch haze seemed to have lifted a little and she stared at him directly. The loneliness was there too but there was also something else – an apology? He shook his head – he didn’t understand - and a flash of hurt pulled at the edges of her mouth.

“Emily,” He croaked after a long silence. “I think about it too.” 

She rose from the chair and slowly sat next to him on the bed, as if he could bolt at any minute. Her hands gently cupped his face but he grabbed her wrists before she could go any further.

“You’ve had a lot to drink, Em.” He sighed heavily. “And I don’t know what you need.”

“Sure you do – it’s the same thing that you need. Haven’t you imagined this?”

“Imagined scenarios aren’t relevant.” He shook his head. “I’m not something that you can walk away from if things get… inconvenient. When co-workers – friends – become intimate, there are consequences.”

“You think that it’s a mistake to be with me?” she whispered.

“I don’t want to become something that you regret.”

She pulled him into her and kissed him. This was not like his first kiss; it wasn’t calculated for effect and it implied much, much more. The possibilities weakened his reasons for hesitation so quickly that he almost forgot that he’d had any. She released his lips long enough to change her angle and when they met again, her tongue entered the conversation. He let go of her wrists and grabbed her waist, dragging her into his hip and forcing her back into an exaggerated S against him. 

Emily didn’t waste any time and shifted so that she straddled his lap. The new position placed her higher than him, so he let her mouth go and skimmed down her neck with his lips. She shivered in his arms, which caused a sympathetic thrill to course through every part of him. When his lips reached the base of her throat, he bit down and she moaned. The sound had a universe-altering effect on him.

“I’ll do anything to get you to make that sound again.” He mumbled into her neck.

Her laugh was warm and dark. “Okay, I’ll give you a hint: my breasts are pretty sensitive.”

His fingers worked quickly and soon her blouse was abandoned to the floor. His lips fastened onto hers and drew her down into him as he cleanly unhooked her bra on the first try. She made a surprised sound against his lips and he responded with a laugh that vibrated through his narrow chest. His fingers traced the underside of her breasts then swept up to warm the areoles with his palms. As promised, she moaned and closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against his. He nipped at the underside of her chin as his palms made slow circles around her nipples and then began to gently pull on them.

“Jesus, you’ve done this before…” she said between gasps.

“Everyone assumes a lot about me…” He let the comment hang in the air as he went for her lips again. “There’s something that I enjoy doing and I’d like to do it with you. Would you mind… ?”

She pulled back a little and looked at him closely. He suddenly became shy and wondered what he was doing with a topless Emily Prentiss sitting in his lap. It was too late to stop and forget that it happened. His only option was to make it memorable instead.

“I promise that you’ll enjoy it too – It’s not weird or anything… It’s my understanding that most women enjoy it but are reluctant to ask their partners to participate unless they have shown a previous inclination.”

“It’s ‘your understanding’?”

“The secret to maintaining sharp cognitive function is constantly synthesizing new information from a variety of sources. I Google a lot.”

“Okay.” She agreed but sounded suspicious.

He twisted them around and pushed her back onto the bed. Then he popped up and quickly drew his t-shirt over his head and tossed it away. Some part of him noted that he wasn’t concerned if Emily would find him awkward looking, which he thought was significant. Next he stripped her of her pants and underwear, and then he just stood there staring for a while. Eventually Emily started to fidget which broke him out of his trance.

“Sorry. I always thought that you were a beautiful woman, Emily, but just now I realized that I was wrong.” He paused and shook his head. “You’re actually exquisite. Seeing you lying there… pale against your dark hair… well, historically, men have gone mad or started wars over women like you.”

He had surprised her with that, if the look on her face was any indication. His shyness overcame him again. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that…”

“Spencer, come here.”

“Sorry, I’m always saying too much.” He said as he climbed over her hovering just above her face.

“I don’t think that any man has ever looked at me the way you just did.” She said quietly.

“They all must have been strangely unobservant, which seems statistically impossible.”

He felt her smile when she kissed him, her hand coming to rest just above his heart. “You’re one smooth gentleman, Spencer Reid.”

He lingered on her lips, content to lose himself in kissing her in as many different ways as he could dream up. She traced her fingertips along his cheekbones, his temples and his mouth, which he found strangely tantalizing. But, eventually, his desires forced a new timetable upon him. He moved down her body, eliciting some much sought-after sounds from Emily before moving on again to his final destination. He breathed some kisses across her abdomen as he nudged her legs apart with one hand. He closed his eyes – he felt that it enhanced the experience to limit the amount of sensory input. He placed his hands on the insides of her thighs and made small circles with his thumbs as he pushed them upwards. He thought that he heard a soft laugh.

“You’re full of surprises.” She murmured.

He tuned out his hearing for the time being. It would be important later but now he was going to be guided by touch, smell, and especially taste. He enjoyed this because it served as a sort of sensory deprivation tank for his conscious mind. He tried to abandon all inclinations to think and analyze in favor of complete sensory immersion. It was one of the few times that he could operate purely on instinct and impulse. It was one of the only things that made his mind quiet.

His fingers reached the junction between her thighs and pelvis and roamed until they sensed heat. With just the tip of his index finger he lightly outlined the edges of her, which produced a cascade of muscle tremors. Eyes still closed, he smiled and slipped the tip of his finger inside her. He heard a tiny gasp from somewhere above, but it was too soon to get lost in sounds. The heat and feel of her produced the expected response in him. This was something else that would be important later; he placed the feelings aside for now. He pushed in a little further and felt how her muscles closed around him, both welcoming and repelling the invader at the same time. 

He slipped his finger from her and felt her hips move, wanting the sensation back. Emily moaned softly above him. This time he returned with the tip of his tongue. He scouted her outer edges and then slowly dipped inside. Emily’s hips responded by pushing closer to him; he held her pelvis in place with one hand. He went back to her center and took a lingering taste: salt and something piquant underneath it. He had tasted it when he kissed her too, under the scotch and perfume and her face cleanser. This time her hips jolted and an unmistakable moan fired off nerve endings all across his body. For the first time he noticed that his erection felt urgent, painful. 

He pushed his tongue in again and gave it a rhythm. He alternated between pulses and swirls, occasionally taking a long exploratory dive that brought home Emily’s taste each time he retracted. He found himself groaning softly into her: her warmth and scent and movement all drawing him in. Her hips moved in reciprocation causing a similar desire in his. Reid pressed his erection against Emily’s calf causing discomfort that only increased his attentions on her.

He quickly switched out his tongue for his fingers again and moved his mouth to her clit. Once he found the nerve cluster he circled it gently. His fingers kept up their rhythm as they pushed deeper and deeper inside. He started to suck on her, flicking his tongue here and there, which produced a lot of loud incoherence from Emily. When she started calling out his name, his hearing came back into the picture. No matter how much will he had, he couldn’t ignore the sound of her voice calling his name _that way_. Her hands suddenly descended into his hair, grabbing damp handfuls and tangling them between her fingers. In his mind, he imagined seeing them from above: Emily spread across the sheets, her hair fanned out beneath her as her body moved to its own insistent rhythm and her limbs framed him buried deep in the core of her. He imagined her face flushed, her dark eyes wide, her mouth shaping his name as she gasped and twisted…

All at once, his animal instincts became extremely urgent. Aside from the rhythm of his fingers, and Emily’s sympathetic hip thrusts, his own body was moving in harmony on its own. His breathing was becoming hard and sharp, which was making his oral attentions more difficult to manage. In unison, his senses decided to move things along: his fingers curved up inside Emily, his rhythm increased, and his mouth pulled harder on her. Her moans turned to begging and pleading which made him want to beg and plead in return. He laid his head against her hips on the bed and called out her name as his fingers drove into her over and over searching out the perfect spot. Movement was making it hard to stay in control of her; his trapped erection was becoming an actual threat to him. 

He squeezed himself to find a reserve of control when Emily contracted around him and cried out with a mix of joy and relief. He gasped and tried to hold still as she used him to ride out her wave, but as soon as she had subsided a little he pulled away groaning her name. 

She rolled towards him, eyes glassy and hands clumsy, fumbling at his pants. He looked up at her helplessly as she roughly pulled his pants away from his erection. She took him in hand and gave his length a long squeeze, circling her thumb over its damp head. He moaned and pushed her back, roughly entering her with a shout. He set a furious pace and lost himself in the need to be in her, the realization that he was the only one who could have this moment with her. When he came, he bit into her shoulder to stop himself from sobbing her name. He felt her arms close around him and gave himself over to warm unconsciousness. Before he drifted off, he thought he heard her calling his name over and over again.

 

***** 

 

Reid reached for the alarm before it went off. He had been awake for an hour just watching Emily sleep. His anxiety ebbed and flowed; he’d have to wake her soon if they were going to make the jet on time. When she woke this soft, intimate bubble that he existed in would end and reality would decide what to do with the night before. If only he had spent that last night in Vegas sleeping on his mother’s couch. If only he had kept on walking through the lobby. If only he had said no to Emily. He wouldn’t have to face getting exactly what he wanted, but only for one night.

Emily stretched across his chest and began to blink in the resentful fashion of a night owl forced into an early morning routine. She stilled against him and then looked up into his face. He smiled his nervous, tight-lipped smile. He suppressed the urge to wave.

“Morning.” He said.

“Is it?” She scrubbed her face. “Dare I ask what time it is?”

“6:30”

“We gotta get up. The jet will be leaving in just over an hour.”

“I know.” He let a moment pass and then dove right in. “How do you feel?”

“I feel like someone bludgeoned me with a scotch bottle.”

“Understandable.” He was wound up too tight so make a smart comment.

She stared at him in an unfocused way and then her face sharpened and she leaned up on her elbows. “I also feel exhausted and sore.”

He didn’t respond. What did that mean anyway? It was no wonder that so many profilers were either single or divorced: they were all too cagey, too controlled with their feelings. 

“I don’t regret last night at all, Spencer.”

Reid closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.

“Were you really worried that I’d wake up and freak out?”

“I didn’t think that you’d freak out… you’re far too polite to do that. I was worried that you’d never speak to me again outside of case briefings…” he smiled nervously.

“I have many regrets, but last night will never be one of them.” She smiled and pressed a soft kiss across his knuckles. “You were right about one thing though: there will be consequences. I can see one forming right now while we’re talking.”

“What is it?”

“We can’t go back to being friends. Not after what we saw in each other last night. That intimacy will always lie between us.”

His stomach twisted and a pain radiated across his chest. If he were lucky, he’d have a massive coronary and die before the thought of losing Emily’s friendship really sunk in. He hadn’t thought about it closely, but in that moment he decided that never being Emily’s friend again was worse than never sleeping with her again.

“We’ll just have to try and make a relationship work. Of course, that has its own set of consequences…”

He was trying to determine whether the pain in his left arm was imminent cardiac arrest or pins and needles, when he caught himself and stared at her. “What did you just say?”

“A relationship. You and me.” When he didn’t respond, she ducked her eyes and began wrapping the top sheet of the bed around her. “Of course, if you aren’t interested… that’s fine too. There’s no reason why we can’t manage this... this post-coital… whatever… with grace.”

She climbed over him and made a dash for the bathroom. “You don’t mind if I shower first, do you?” He could hear her voice thickening as she spoke over her shoulder.

Reid grabbed the trailing end of the sheet and yanked her backwards. She stumbled and let herself fall onto the bed rather than hit the hard floor. Her eyes were glassy and he was immediately sorry that he had been so rough with her.

“Emily, give a guy a moment to process, will you?” He cocked his head and ran his fingers over the bruise forming on her shoulder where he bit her. She was a mess and it looked fantastic on her. “You are an extraordinary person, Em, and my life is better for having you in it. Why _wouldn’t_ I want to be with you? I mean, I’d take friendship… I really would, but I’d have to be crazy to say no to more.”

She shook her head and tried to blink away the emotions that were playing across her face. He wished that she believed in herself more.

“No one sees me the way you do.” She rose quickly and kissed him only letting him go when she needed to breathe. “I’m not kidding. This isn’t going to easy, Spence.”

“Is it weird that I get a little turned on every time you call me that?”

“I’m serious…” She pressed her forehead against his.

“I know you are, and maybe it’s good that you’re worried. It means that you have some idea of what you’re getting into. I don’t have much experience with relationships, so I’m probably going to make a lot of mistakes.” He ran his fingers through her hair and held her face. “But I also think that we shouldn’t over analyze this, which will be a challenge given who we are.”

“How do we do that?”

“Well… we get out of this hotel room, back to D.C., we write up our case notes, and then… then you go out on a date with me. Away from the BAU, away from prying eyes… just the two of us. And then we just… see how it goes.”

She looked dumbfounded. “You’re asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah.” He smiled a big goofy grin and sat up straighter against the headboard. “Emily, would you like to have dinner with me?”

He watched her face blossom into a smile; a genuine Emily Prentiss smile could change your whole day. He felt like he’d just won something rare and incredibly hard to attain.

“Yes, I’d love that.”

“Good.” He sat them both up and quickly kissed her neck. “So you’d better get into that shower because step 1 of the plan is to get out of town.”

Emily hopped up, dropped the bed sheet, and walked casually towards the bathroom. She reached the door and looked back at him. “10 minutes and the bathroom’s all yours, okay?” He must have been wearing a ridiculous look on his face because she laughed and then closed the door on him. 

Maybe some day he’d become used to seeing her curves highlighted in the morning sun like that. Maybe some day that smile would seem commonplace.

Maybe. But he’d look forward to all the days in which he thought of them as being the result of unbelievably good luck instead. And he was perfectly content not to over analyze the odds of _that_.


End file.
